Torrey took a long breath. “So, I am responsible for the output of my team members?”

“That is what I will hold you accountable for,” I replied.

“Even if they get sick, or a machine breaks down, or materials are late,” Torrey was looking for a way out.

I nodded my head. “Torrey, the reason we selected you for this project, is that you have been successful on other projects, six months in length. I expect you to manage the uncertainty of events that could happen and will happen during a project of this Time Span. I expect you to make contingency plans, schedule redundancy where it’s appropriate, inspect for quality, anticipate schedule changes, vacations and prevent accidents. I don’t expect you to make excuses. I expect you to anticipate, modify, readjust and meet the deadline.”

It was a late weekend morning. I was headed south on A-1-A, returning from a solo bike run to Boynton inlet. The headwind was light, but enough to knock the speed to an even 19mph. Three hours into the ride, I was in no position to hammer the wind, yet impatient to keep the speed up.

“On your left,” was a friendly heads-up as an unknown rider with fresh legs slipped in front. I downshifted and picked up the reps to catch his wheel. I settled into the quiet space of his draft at 21mph. Seconds later, I sensed a third rider on my tail. Now we were three.

For thirty minutes, we snaked down the road, changing leads, holding 21, taking turns on the nose. I was struck with the purity of teamwork between three people who had never met before, with only three words between them.

A team will never gain traction without a common purpose.

This was a team with nothing, except a common purpose, executing skillful maneuvers, supporting each other, communicating precisely with each other. There was no orientation, no “get to know you session,” just a purity of purpose.

When your team works together, how clear is the purpose? What is the commitment level of each team member to that purpose?

“How could it be necessity. I thought you said it was a volunteer project?” I pressed. “Volunteer means you had a choice. How could it be necessity?”

Donna sat for a minute. “You are right. We were volunteers, as a team. But to us, it was necessary. It was necessary to show up on time. It was necessary to support each other. It was necessary to challenge each other. It was necessary to finish the project.”

“Look, you said it was necessity that made your team perform at such a high level. But if you were all volunteers, what made this project necessary?”

“I don’t know,” Donna replied. “It was something we saw in the project.” She stopped. “Or something we saw in ourselves that made the project necessary. For each person on the team.”

I let her words sink in. She had just made the connection. The necessity that drove her team was something inside each team member, that made them push forward.

And then I pressed again, “So, how do you, as a manager, create that necessity, with your team, on this new project?”

“If you want to build a team, give them a real problem to solve,” I started. “Forget about sensitivity training and communication seminars. Give them a real problem to solve.”

“You mean I should forget about the team circle with all the falling and catching?” Donna smiled.

“Yes. Think about a high performing team you were once a member of. And tell me all about it.”

“Okay,” she responded. “I remember a team. I was just out of college and a group of us got involved in this community service project. We were together for only six weeks, but it was pretty intense. After the project, we all moved on to different things, but when we worked together, against all odds, we were unstoppable.”

“Don’t tell me about the project, tell me about the team. Who was on the team, why the intensity, what was it that made that team so powerful?”

“We were focused. The project was very clearly defined, along with several problems, issues and challenges. The more difficult the problem, the better we worked together.”

“What was it, about the team that made it work so well?” I pressed.

“The biggest thing,” Donna nodded, “was that no single person could do the project alone. It was necessary to cooperate, necessary to ask for cooperation, necessary to communicate. It wasn’t that we were good at being a team, there was just no other way. It was necessity.”

There are three kinds of people who attend my classes, and I bet you find the same people on your team.

The first type always shows up early, helps set the meeting room and every time I ask a question, has their hand flailing in the air about to bust a gut. This is the person I call, the Eager Beaver.

The second type shows up on time, seldom late. This is the Vacationer. They are happy to be in the meeting, because they don’t have to be at their desk working. When asked to participate, sometimes they contribute, sometimes they don’t. It doesn’t matter to them, after all, they are on vacation.

The third type would not dare be late, not wanting to attract attention. They slide into a chair in the back of the room. They were told to attend this meeting, but they have no clue why. This is the Hostage, sitting arms folded, avoiding eye contact, with a look on their face that says, “Don’t even try to teach me anything.”

So, your team is trying to solve an issue. Which one of the three will have the idea that saves the day? Think about it. Who can you count on? Who has the creative spark that solves the problem?

As a Manager, you don’t know. You can’t possibly know. That is why you need the active participation of each member of the team. Nobody gets to coast, nobody sleeps through, everyone engaged. As a Manager, it is up to you to create that environment. Would you like to know how?